“Presently, my good friend, after supper; but, for the present, just take my sweet Leaina into your handsomest parlor and pay her a few compliments on her fine scented hair.[154] You are expecting other guests of course—they may arrive at any moment. Meanwhile, leave me alone with your prisoner—I want to find out from him, how on earth he succeeded in making a Nazarene of Quintus Claudius.”
“What interest can you take in the question?”
“The interest of curiosity—and something more. Do you suppose we women remain quite indifferent, when the handsomest man in Rome is thrown to the lions?”
“He ought to be left to us,” laughed Leaina; “we should demolish him more tenderly.”
“But, I beg of you....” said Stephanus, paying no heed to Leaina. “If it were known—what would people think?”
“Anything they please. Make haste; where is he? I am dying to hear what he has to say.”
“Very well....” said Stephanus, shrugging his shoulders, and with an unsteady hand he unlocked the door again, went into the room, and whispered to the slave. “I will see what can be done for Quintus Claudius—meanwhile, not a word—or....”
He ended with a horribly suggestive gesture. Then he added in a louder tone:
“Here is a lady, who wants some information as to your relations with Quintus Claudius; answer her with due respect and strict regard to truth.”
The bronze lamp was still standing on the shelf. Lycoris went in and closed the door behind her, while Stephanus, with a heavy heart, conducted Leaina to the peristyle where, in a few minutes, they were joined by Martial and a few other guests, who vied with each other in their attentions to the graceful and coquettish Asiatic.